


Push It

by RowanBaines



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Blow Jobs, Bottom Spock, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Restraints, Rimming, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-21
Updated: 2014-09-21
Packaged: 2018-02-18 04:34:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2335484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RowanBaines/pseuds/RowanBaines
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The stresses of the job are starting to wear Kirk down, but luckily Spock knows just how to make his bondmate feel like he's on top of things again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Push It

**Author's Note:**

  * For [plaidshirtjimkirk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/plaidshirtjimkirk/gifts).



> I wrote this for the wonderful [Plaidshirtjimkirk](http://archiveofourown.org/users/plaidshirtjimkirk), because she mentioned wanting a fic in which Spock gets fucked into the mattress. I aim to please!
> 
> Thanks to my friend and beta, [Druxykexy](http://archiveofourown.org/users/druxykexy)! I love you forever!

 

“What the hell happened?”

 

“Captain, I did inform you that the artificial gravity generators would experience intermittent failures if repairs were not effected immediately,” Spock said, clasping his hands in front of him. Jim watched as Scotty nodded to himself, and there was some nervous shifting around the briefing room table.

 

Jim scrubbed tiredly at his face before replying, “Yes, Mister Spock. You did.”

 

“Given the nature of the damage sustained during the most recent attack—”

 

“I’m not worried about how the damage occurred, I want to to know if it’s fixed yet!” Jim snapped. He immediately regretted his tone, and gave Spock a conciliatory glance, eyes pleading for understanding.

 

Jim was very tired. The reassurance that came through his bond with Spock gave him strength, though.

 

“Repairs are underway and should be completed within twenty-six minutes.”

 

Jim nodded and turned to McCoy. “Doctor, how are the injured crewmen?”

 

McCoy had been watching him with keen blue eyes, his lips in a thoughtful pout. Upon being addressed the doctor sat up a little straighter before giving his report. “There were no serious injuries, Captain. Just a few scrapes, contusions, and one mild concussion when an ensign floated up and hit the ceiling.”

 

“As we are now out of the contested area, it is unlikely that they will fire upon us again,” Spock said as soon as McCoy fell quiet.

 

By “they” he meant the very territorial aliens who had waylaid them as soon as they entered a previously unexplored star system near Tholian space. From what they could gather, the aliens, who had referred to themselves as Erunan, hailed from a neighboring star system, but had designs on the area the _Enterprise_ had been exploring.

 

He was fairly certain that readings indicating dilithium deposits on the fourth planet in the system had something to do with the Erunan’s very strong interest in the area.

 

Jim had been tempted to stand his ground on principle—the area was, technically, in Federation space—but the ship had sustained damage, and he was not willing to lose any of his crew squabbling over a planet that may or may not have usable deposits of dilithium.

 

Jim listened while the rest of the department heads gave their reports, and after issuing a few commands he finally called, “Dismissed.”

 

Kirk was hardly aware of the shuffling of feet and brief conversations as everyone filed out of the room. He crossed one arm over his chest to clutch his elbow and gently massaged his right temple where a throbbing pressure was building.

 

“I’ve got something that’ll clear that headache up, if you want to stop by sickbay,”  McCoy’s voice called out from near the door.

 

"Mmph." Jim let his hands drop into his lap and lifted his head to look at his friend. "No thanks, Bones. I think I'll just sleep it off."

 

"Really? And here I thought I'd have to drag you kicking and screaming to your quarters." McCoy's tone had started off light, but quickly grew serious. "I want you to get some rest. No checking up on things or sneaking away to the bridge for at least eight hours. You've had a rough week."

 

"We've all had a rough week," Jim said. But Jim knew what McCoy meant.

 

No one took it harder than the captain did when the ship was damaged and crewmen lost. Only six days prior, three men had been killed when an experiment gone wrong caused an explosion that blew apart one of the science labs. Spock had gone down to the labs to check up on an experiment ten minutes before the tragedy struck, and after a flash of pain through the bond there had been a few agonizing moments during which Kirk had feared his bondmate lost.

 

When muted waves of alarm and concern not his own had flowed down the link Kirk had known Spock was alive.

 

Jim was beginning to feel the helplessness that plagued him whenever his ship and crew suffered from one too many unlucky occurrences. He hated it. There was too much riding on his ability to command for him to allow himself any moments of weakness.

 

Frustrated and on edge, he decided to delay the rest McCoy had insisted he get. He followed McCoy out of the briefing room, but after slowing his pace to let the doctor get ahead of him, he turned toward the gym.

 

He was too anxious to sleep, anyway.

  


*

  


Spock lowered himself onto his meditation mat and patiently awaited his bondmate’s arrival.

 

He could feel the same disquiet he’d been picking up on for weeks trickling through the bond, and when it grew more muted Spock concluded that Jim had opted to burn off some of his nervous energy in the gym.

 

Spock doubted that even the physical exertion of a strenuous workout would be enough to dispel Jim’s current discontent. It was an issue that Spock planned to address as soon as Jim returned to him. Jim needed to feel in control again, and that was something Spock could give him.

 

Spock sometimes overheard speculation as to his suitability for a relationship with a human. His human crewmates assumed that because he was Vulcan he would be unable to satisfy his captain’s emotional needs, but nothing could be further from the truth. Even if they had not been t’hy’la—bound together so deeply that even death would be unable to completely sever their connection—he was instinctively driven to please his mate, to keep him content within the bond.

 

It was only logical, after all, that he seek to please the man who would carry him through the fires of pon farr when the time came.

 

It did not trouble Spock in the slightest to give way to Jim’s human strength, to let the man he loved dominate him during their intimate encounters. Jim had more than earned his submission, and though he did on occasion like to take control of their lovemaking, for the most part he was content to let his tenacious bondmate guide him through shattering realm of sensual pleasures.

 

For Jim he would tear down all of his defenses and give himself up to the enticing, but potentially overwhelming, prurience that so thrilled his bondmate. He trusted Jim implicitly, in all things.

 

Normally he would spend his time alone meditating, strengthening his shields against the constant low-level telepathic noise created by the crew, but not tonight. Tonight he would let his controls crumble, and give himself up wholly, eagerly, to his mate.

 

He did not attempt to suppress the shiver of excitement that swept over him.

 

He let his excitement build, channeled it, sending waves of lust coursing through the bond to entice his bondmate back to him.

 

Breathing deeply, he waited.

  


*

 

Jim’s workout had been physically tiring and fairly satisfying, but it had not done much to rid him of his uneasiness.

 

Rubbing a towel over his sweaty face, Jim wondered if he’d be able to sleep through the night. He knew that if he couldn’t Spock would be more than willing to help him, but he hated to worry Spock with his fitful tossing and turning. He’d have to try to quiet his end of the bond before going to bed.

 

Jim was just heading to the showers when he felt it.

 

It hit him in warm pulses that heated his blood and made his skin tingle. He stopped and began to sway on his feet just before he reached the door to the showers.

 

“Oh, Spock,” he murmured. He let Spock’s lust wash over him, knowing what Spock was offering. He was both overwhelmed with love for his bondmate and drowning in desire, and he eschewed the showers in favor of reaching Spock sooner.

 

Jim stalked down the corridors, his fingers twitching and finally pulling into fists as he tried to contain the rising inferno within him. If he drew a crewman’s eye as he made his way to his quarters, he didn’t notice it. His focus had zeroed in on the beacon that was his bondmate’s life force, a radiant light in his inner landscape that led him onward.

 

He reached up and twisted his hands in the shirt draped around his shoulders, breathing a sigh of relief as he neared his quarters.

 

He needed Spock.

  


*

 

Spock found it difficult to contain his reaction when Jim sauntered in, catching his eye and holding it. His bondmate was bare chested and glistening with sweat, the red workout tights doing very little to conceal his muscular thighs and burgeoning erection. His hair was dark with sweat and swept back from his face in an unruly wave, all but one tendril that curled down on his forehead.

 

He looked magnificent.

 

Spock blinked and mentally shook himself, then stepped forward, offering Jim the cup of tea he had been holding in anticipation of his arrival. The tea contained a small dose of an aphrodisiac Jim had purchased on their last shore leave on Wrigleys. It was a safe and—of course—legal substance that would both give Jim energy and reduce his refractory period, and Spock could not stop faint blush that rose on his cheeks as Jim took the cup.

 

Jim smirked, and then drank the tea down without breaking eye contact. He went to his desk and set the cup down, his movements smooth and feline.

 

Spock stepped forward, his dark eyes gleaming.  He stopped just in front of Jim, and tilted his head down to brush their lips together. It was the barest kiss, a brief touch that sent a faint tingle rippling through him.

 

"Jim," Spock said. He brushed his lips against Jim's again and then stepped back.

 

Jim's eyes had started to close, and he peered up at Spock through his lashes. Spock felt Jim’s need through the bond, ferocious in its intensity, and heat curled and grew within him.

 

To Spock, who had never felt as though he belonged anywhere, belonging to Jim made him feel secure. With Jim he did not have to be Vulcan or Human, he only needed to be himself. Here, in the privacy of their quarters, he could share with Jim everything he was, feel everything within him without shame or guilt. He felt a thrill at the thought of Jim laying him bare, and his breath stuttered.

 

In a flash of movement that surprised Spock, Jim was on him. His hands clamped to the sides of Spock’s head, Jim pulled him in for kiss. Jim plunged his tongue past Spock’s lips, tasting him deeply, but before Spock could respond the tongue with withdrawn and Jim’s teeth scraped over his bottom lip, biting just a little too hard. Spock gasped, but then chased Jim’s mouth with his own as Jim started to pull back. Jim allowed the kiss, but then suddenly wrenched himself away.

 

“Are you ready?” Jim said after a few deep breaths.

 

Spock took a moment to compose himself so that his voice did not betray his already fading controls. “Yes.”

 

This was what he wanted, and he would not fear it. Jim would lead the way and he would follow, safe, accepted, cherished.

 

Spock felt a moment of apprehension, and then a brief flash of mental discomfort as Jim cut himself off, shielding the bond on his end. He understood that if Jim hoped to remain in control of himself he could not leave himself open to the raw emotions Spock would be feeling. And so he allowed himself to process his response to the retreat and then moved past it, focusing on the physical.

 

He was already growing hard, his body buzzing with anticipation as Jim’s eyes raked hungrily over him.

 

“Take your clothes off,” Jim said.

 

The commanding tone of his voice sent a heady rush of desire through Spock, and he eagerly began to comply with Jim’s request. He had stripped off his blue uniform tunic in one smooth movement when a sharply snapped order from Jim made him freeze.

 

“Slowly.”

 

Spock paused, his hands at the hem of his black undershirt, and then he slowly began to pull it up. He let his fingertips drag up his belly, his chest, and tilted his head back to expose the curve of his throat just before he pulled the shirt over his head. He felt it ruffle his hair, his bangs falling in disarray against his forehead, and he gave Jim a dark look as he let the shirt slip from his arms to the floor.

 

Jim bit his bottom lip, his expression becoming hungry.

 

Spock swallowed hard, transfixed for a moment by the fiery glint in Jim’s tawny eyes, and then he looked away, bending down to slip off his boots. First one, then the other, his socks joining them in a pile on the floor. When he stood straight again and met Jim’s gaze the light was still blazing in his eyes, but his lips were pulled into a faint, affectionate smile. It vanished quickly, but it was enough. Jim had always been able to read him, even before they bonded, and the simple reassurance soothed his nerves.

 

Spock let his hand linger low over his belly for a moment, delighting in the electric buildup of excitement he could feel emanating from his mate, and then he unfastened his trousers.

 

He focused on the sound of Jim’s deep breaths, unconsciously matching him as he slid the trousers down. When they hit the floor he stepped out of them, and then he slid one hand partway under the band of his black briefs. He could not resist provoking Jim, and held his hand there, cocking an eyebrow at his bondmate.

 

Jim wasted no time taking control of the situation, and took a step forward. “Drop them. Now.”

 

Spock immediately obeyed. He pulled the briefs down and then kicked them away, and he did not attempt to control the slow rushing of blood to his groin.

 

He stood naked before Jim, half hard and dazed by the strength of his own emotions as he allowed them to flow through him. Jim’s approving eyes swept over him, his hands twitching slightly at his sides as though he was struggling not to reach out and grab Spock. Suddenly Spock ached for Jim’s touch, and his breath gusted out in a helpless little sigh. He knew Jim would not touch him until he was ready to.

 

At the small sound, Jim cocked his head a little to the side, his lips curling into a sly smile.

 

“Go to the desk,” Jim ordered.

 

Spock walked over to the desk, stopping just in front of it and peering over his shoulder at Jim.

 

“Bend over,” Jim said.

 

Spock placed his hands on the desk, leaning over it. Before he knew what was happening, Jim’s hand was in his hair, shoving him down flat over the top of the desk. Spock nearly gasped as his chest hit the cool surface, but then his attention was caught by the heat of Jim’s leg brushing his. There was fabric between them, but even that faint touch stirred Spock, and he subtly shifted to increase the contact.

 

“Don’t move a muscle,” Jim said.

 

Spock froze, and then he heard Jim chuckle softly. A moment later, the touch was gone, along with the hand at the back of his head. Heat flashed through Spock, a burning need for Jim’s skin against his, for reassurance in the face of the quiet bond, but he held himself still, determined to please his t’hy’la.

 

“Good.” Jim’s voice was low, and Spock could not help but thrill at the note of approval.

 

Spock heard Jim walk away, and then the opening and closing of a drawer. When Jim came back Spock’s heart started to beat heavily in his chest. He knew what was coming next and was both anxious and aroused.

 

“Put your hands behind your back,” Jim said.

 

Spock complied, lifting his hands and keeping them slightly apart. He felt a restraint clamp around one wrist, and then the other, the soft material of the padding wrapping around his sensitive skin. Jim’s fingers brushed lightly against him as he adjusted the restraints and attached the connecter, but Spock didn’t move.

 

In reward, Jim dragged a finger slow and hot over Spock’s palm. The momentary anxiety he had felt was instantly gone, replaced by pure need. It was almost an itch under his skin, and he unconsciously thrust against the desk before he could stop himself. He heard Jim step away, and felt cool air swirl to take his place.

 

“Alright, get up.” Jim was somewhere behind him, a little farther away than Spock had expected.

 

Spock raised himself up, instinctively testing the restraints with a little tug, and turned to face Jim. Jim’s erection was straining against the red fabric of his tights, and Spock’s breath caught as Jim’s smoldering sensuality washed over him.

 

“Come to me,” Jim said.

 

Spock eagerly did as he was told.

  


*

  


As Spock approached, naked and yet still somehow completely dignified, Jim was tempted to catch him in his arms and kiss him senseless. Instead he focused inward, strengthening his shields as Spock had taught him to do, and then reached up to catch Spock by the hair.

 

“On your knees.”

 

Spock lowered himself down to his knees, his head tilted back so that he was looking up at Jim. Jim couldn’t stop himself from stroking his fingers through Spock’s fine black hair before tightening his grip and tugging Spock’s head straight. Jim palmed his erection through the tights with his free hand, grinning when he saw Spock’s pupils dilate, then he slipped his thumb beneath the waistband and pulled it down.

 

His cock sprang free, bobbing in front of him, and Jim felt Spock pull forward slightly. He gave Spock’s hair a sharp tug, though Spock’s obvious eagerness made his head swim with a potent mixture of love and lust. He leaned forward, letting the head of his dick brush Spock’s soft lips and smear a drop of precome there. Spock looked up at Jim through dark lashes as his tongue flicked out to taste it. He opened his mouth, his whole being radiating want, but Jim released his grip on Spock’s hair and pulled back.

 

“Jim,” Spock said, his voice beseeching.

 

“Did I give you permission to speak?” Jim asked.

 

Spock closed his eyes for a moment, his mouth opening and then closing, before he shaking his head.

 

“Do you want something, Spock?”

 

Spock nodded.

 

Jim was in a devilish mood, so he ignored the movement and snapped, “Answer me.”

 

To Spock’s credit, he did no more than blink before answering, “Yes.”

 

“What do you want?”

 

“I want to take you in my mouth,” Spock said, after only a brief pause. His cheeks grew flushed but he did not break eye contact.

 

“You want to...what?” Jim pressed, wanting him to do better.

 

This time the pause was a little longer, and Jim knew Spock was trying to decide how best to phrase his response. The tips of his ears now burning sage, Spock said in a faintly tremulous voice, “I want your...cock in my mouth.”

 

Jim looked Spock over, assessing his condition, and was pleased to note that he was fully hard. Jim knew that the shielded bond in combination with Spock’s arousal was making him desperate for the reassurance of his touch, so he wouldn’t push Spock too far. He reached out, stroking two fingers over a green-tinged cheek in a gesture that made the Spock sigh with relief and close his eyes.

 

“All right,” Jim said. “Take my cock in your mouth.”

 

Spock did, almost lurching forward to capture Jim’s swollen organ, fervently wrapping his lips around it.

 

“Suck.”

 

Spock’s cheeks hollowed as he sucked Jim down, choking a little in his haste, but quickly recovering. Jim’s moan was echoed by Spock, who was swallowing around Jim with the eagerness of a starving man at a feast. His whole being radiated longing, and his firmly clamped lips slid up and down the shaft a few times before releasing so he could lick around the head and tongue the slit.

 

Jim looked down to see Spock gazing up at him, and balled his fists at his sides to keep from stroking those elegantly pointed ears, or the dark, arched eyebrows. To see his proud, beautiful bondmate bound and on his knees, vigorously sliding his lips up and down Jim’s cock, was exhilarating.  

 

Jim jerked his hips forward with a grunt when Spock began to swirl his tongue around the head and then moved down the achingly hard shaft. It was good, too good, and Jim was spiraling toward release more quickly than he wanted. When Spock began to make muffled noises around him, hands tugging ineffectually at his bonds, Jim cursed under his breath and pulled out.

 

Spock’s mouth gaped, his lips slightly swollen and enticingly wet. His eyes looked glazed and wild, and Jim knew by the way he leaned forward—a short, involuntary motion which he quickly aborted—that he was feeling acutely touch-starved.

 

Spock’s lips began to move, silently calling Jim’s name again and again. He looked bereft, ravenous, his arms jerking behind him against the cuffs, and Jim could not resist him. His desire to prolong this moment finally lost out to the overpowering energy of their combined lust.

 

He grabbed Spock by the hair, ignoring his startled cry, and plunged into the open mouth.

 

He pushed in, shoving his cock down Spock’s throat, until Spock’s nose was nestled in his pubic hair. A low noise rumbled in Spock’s chest as he worked his throat around Jim’s shaft, creating a firm, pulsing sensation.

 

“God, Spock!” Jim choked out before he could stop himself.

 

Feeling his control over the situation quickly slipping away, he pulled back and then thrust slowly in and out a couple times while he caught his breath. He knew he wasn’t going to last much longer. Gathering up his control, Jim shoved Spock’s head down onto his dick and then began to fuck his mouth earnest. He kept his movements firm but smooth, speeding up and closing his eyes as he felt his orgasm fast approaching.

 

He knew Spock was making small noises around him, but they were nearly drowned out but the sound of his own heavy breathing and dragged out moans.

 

His eyes snapped open as the first jet of come spurted down Spock’s throat, his orgasm wrenching a clipped yell out of him. He pulled out, clutching his pulsing cock in his hand, and watched as pearly strings of come splattered over Spock’s cheek and chin, and into his gasping mouth. He stroked himself slowly, milking the last of it out of him, and as his breathing slowly began to even out he looked over his bondmate.

 

Spock was sitting on his heels, his back slumped but his head upturned, as though he was on the verge of collapse but could not bear to look away from Jim. His face was come-splattered, open, and so trusting, making him seem almost painfully vulnerable. His brown eyes were wide but still glassy, and he blinked slowly at Jim before finally letting his head droop.

 

Jim sighted contently. He should have been tired, but the aphrodisiac-laced tea had done him well, and he could still feel energy buzzing through him. He knew he’d be hard again soon enough, and he wanted time to make Spock ready for what he meant to do next.

 

“Get up,” he said softly, looking down at Spock’s lowered head. He had meant to snap, to command, but for the moment he was allowing his demeanor to be softened by his boundless affection for his Vulcan mate.

 

He was pleased by the warm—if desperately wanting—look this earned from Spock.

 

“Up,” he said again, this time a little firmer.

 

Spock climbed to his feet, and Jim lifted his hand, ready to catch Spock as he swayed a little. Spock opened his mouth, looking as though he wanted to speak, but then closed his eyes and breathed heavily in and out.

 

“Would you like to say something, Spock?” Jim asked, running a finger teasingly over Spock’s bottom lip in a fleeting caress.

 

Spock opened his eyes at the touch, and he tensed for a moment as though stopping himself from moving.

 

“Thank you, Jim,” he said, his voice raspy and deep.

 

Jim’s heart twisted a little. He was certain Spock thanking him not just for the things happening at the moment, but perhaps for everything that had happened since they met. His voice was so earnest, and Jim knew that with his Vulcan control abandoned, he was most likely drowning in the flood of his own emotions. It was breathtaking to see him so open, his eyes shining with feeling.

 

As satisfying as it was, Jim was thirsty for more of what Spock had to give.

 

He smiled, but kept his tone demanding when he said, “Go lie down on the bed.”

 

Spock blinked and stepped back, as though breaking out of a trance, and went to the bed. Jim watched him go, enjoying the sight of his strong back, taut buttocks, and long legs. Spock’s hands were curled into fists, but he was no longer tugging at the restraints, and when he lay down on his side facing Jim his expression was still open and warm.

 

Jim stripped down and walked over to him, inflamed by the sight of Spock’s pale, prone body, and the come still shining on his flushed cheeks. The faintly olive, lightly veined cock was jutting out just above the red and gold coverlet, just begging to be touched and sucked. Jim decided he had never seen anything so beautiful in his life.

 

“On your back,” Jim said. “And scoot up a bit.”

 

Spock complied, keeping his bound hands in the small of his back. He spread his legs invitingly and Jim sat on the end of the bed, getting down on his elbows between them. Spock’s legs twitched toward him, whether in an defensive motion or in a bid for contact, Jim didn’t know, but he shook his head and made a disapproving noise.

 

He raised himself up a little higher to better make eye contact. “You don’t do anything unless I say you can. Do you understand?”

 

Spock nodded, biting his his lower lip. He had lifted his head to watch Jim, but he dropped it to the pillow, staring up at the ceiling and looking a little lost. When Spock’s body gave a slight shudder, Jim knew it would be cruel to withhold his touch too much longer.

 

He sat up and leaned over Spock, careful not to let their skin brush.

  


*

  


“Open your mouth,” Jim said.

 

Spock did, and his eyes grew a little wider as Jim slid two fingers in. Knowing what Jim wanted, he slicked them with his tongue, licking between the fingers and scraping his teeth over the knuckles. Jim’s smile in response was warm and sensual.

 

Spock’s mind automatically reached for him again, and the continued silence on that end of the bond created a gaping emptiness in him. He sucked harder on Jim’s fingers, bucking his hips up toward the man leaning over him. He wanted Jim’s skin against his, moist and human-hot, wanted Jim all around him and inside of him. The bond cried for it, demanded more of his mate, wanted him mind, body, and soul.

 

Jim did not concede to his obvious need. His fingers pulled out of Spock’s mouth, and for a small eternity he was painfully absent, pulling back while still carefully avoiding touching. Spock started to draw his knees together, meaning to trap the human between them, but Kirk made a sharp, angry sound that paralyzed him.

 

He could not bear to displease his t’hy’la, especially not now when he needed Jim so.

 

Spock let his legs fall open and gave Jim a pleading look. Jim just flashed another sultry smile and shifted back a little, and Spock feared he would remove himself from the bed entirely. The thought alarmed him, and a tremor went through him.

 

Jim’s look grew predatory, and he crouched down a little.  “Would you like me to touch you?”

 

Though he gave no outward sign of excitement, Spock’s heart leapt in his chest. His control was slipping further and further away from him, but he made no attempt to reclaim it.

 

“Yes. I want you to touch my…” Spock’s voice faltered as his mind sought out a clinical term and then discarded it. If he meant to increase Jim’s pleasure then he must adopt human terminology. He was as yet coherent enough, at least, to know that much.

 

Consciously deepening his voice in way he knew Jim could not resist, he said, “I want you to touch my ass. Please, Jim, I want to feel your fingers inside me.”

 

Jim’s eyebrows raised slightly in a careless way, but Spock could see his pupils expanding into deep black pools, and could hear the catch in his breath.

 

Spock nearly jumped when Jim reached between his legs and gently stroked down his perineum to his tightly puckered opening. One finger pushed against the clenched muscle and then popped inside, not quite slick enough and burning its way deeper. It was uncomfortable, the sting of that small but unforgiving presence wiggling into him, but it was Jim, and despite his bondmate’s shielded thoughts he still felt the delicious, electric tingle he experienced whenever Jim touched him.

 

His legs fell open a little wider and he sighed at the gentle stroking motions Jim was making. He had little time to enjoy it though, because all too soon another finger pushed into him to join the first. Spock lifted his hips a little and squeezed his eyes shut as he consciously relaxed his muscles to ease the feeling of tightness.

 

The slight stinging sensation remained, but he quickly forgot it as Jim’s fingers worked in him, twisting and stroking.

 

Spock started, eyes flying open, when Jim slapped the inside of his thigh just hard enough to cause a sharp prickling of pain. Jim was smirking at him, and Spock was prepared this time when Jim’s free hand smacked his other thigh, leaving his skin burning and pleasantly tingling.

 

“You like that?” Jim asked.

 

Feeling breathless, Spock merely nodded his head.

 

Jim chuckled. “Maybe you’ll like it even better if I…”

 

Jim’s expression grew intense with concentration and the fingers within Spock pushed in and then curved upward, stroking him hard.

 

“Jim!” Spock cried, his hips bucking up as Jim found his prostate. Spock was sensitive, and the amount of pressure Jim was exerting with his massaging fingers was nearly overwhelming him. He writhed helplessly, clenching his fists in the small of his back when the exquisite feeling became too much. He felt warm drops of precome dripping from his aching organ onto his belly, and the tremulous moan that rattled through his chest startled him.

 

The movement of Jim’s fingers slowed, growing gentler, and Spock sighed heavily with relief. The sensation sweeping through him now in waves was hot and deep, making him shiver with need.

 

He became aware of Jim’s voice murmuring, coaching him, “Come on. Come on, Spock.”

 

He began to rotate his hips forward and back, fucking himself on Jim’s fingers, his body desperately craving more. He needed more heat, more movement, more Jim. He wanted Jim filling him up and possessing him, that hot human body pounding into him. The empty place in his mind where Jim’s thoughts should have been was becoming a sucking void that desperately needed to be filled.

 

Jim’s free hand stroked up and down his cock and for an irrational moment Spock thought he might die from pleasure. Spock groaned as he neared orgasm, his legs tensing as he lifted his body off the bed a little. But then Jim’s hand clenched mercilessly around the base of his cock and froze there, and the fingers pulled out of him, leaving him empty.

 

Release thwarted, Spock tossed his head on the pillow and panted, “Please, Jim! Give me...give...”

 

Spock restlessly pulled at his restraints, but the cuffs, soft and comfortable as they were around his wrists, did not give. He wondered if they would break if he applied all his strength. He then imagined what he would do if he got loose. He pictured himself catching Jim in his arms and then pinning him to the bed, imagined plunging into Jim’s mind even as he impaled himself on Jim’s hard, pinkish cock.

 

Spock’s swollen erection only met too-cool air as he thrust up, and the emptiness inside him where Jim’s fingers had been was aching and cruel.

 

“Jim,” Spock cried. “I need you, please!”

 

Jim rubbed a warm hand over Spock’s belly, pushing him back down into the mattress and smearing through the glistening beads of pre-ejaculate. “God, Spock. You look gorgeous like this, all spread open and begging.”

 

Spock arched up into his touch and had just opened his mouth to give Jim more begging, if that was what he wanted, but then Jim’s fingers were back inside him and the hand that had been on his belly moved back to his shaft.

 

Once again Jim brought him close to orgasm and then denied him release, and by the time Jim pulled away again and went to retrieve the lubricant Spock was a needy, shivering mess. He watched Jim apply the clear gel to himself and he knew that in just a moment Jim would be on him, deep inside of him. For a moment that stretched out far too long, Jim hovered between Spock’s legs.

 

Then he smiled and sat back on his heels.

 

His controls now completely blown to pieces, Spock squirmed toward him and only barely managed to keep from crying out in dismay. But then Jim’s heated voice filled his ears.

 

“Turn over.”

 

It was a somewhat awkward maneuver with his hands bound, but Spock quickly complied, rolling over onto his stomach.

 

“Put your ass up. And spread your legs more.” Jim slapped Spock’s thigh and said, “Spread.”

 

Spock adjusted his position and felt Jim moving behind him. The only warning he got was a hand suddenly clasping his hip, and then Jim was pushing into him, so hard and impossibly hot. The pleasure of it was acute, piercing, and though the burn quickly faded, Spock still felt as though he was being split open.  

 

He wanted more.

 

Even as Jim thrust forward, Spock pushed back, and in a moment Spock was filled by the entire length of Jim’s shaft. Spock froze and shuddered, and Jim groaned, now clutching both of Spock’s hips in a bruising grip.

 

Spock’s brain was buzzing, too overcome with lust to form coherent thought. Jim moved leisurely at first, fucking Spock slow and deep, squeezing Spock’s ass cheeks around his cock.

 

Spock reached for Jim mentally, then reached back with his bound hands, stretching out his fingers until they brushed Jim’s skin on every forward thrust. But it was still not enough. Even with Jim moving inside him, pushing so deep and heating him from within, he found himself wanting more of his bondmate. It made his Vulcan blood burn, and he began to throw himself back onto Jim with seething unrestraint.

 

It was good, so terribly good that Spock felt mad with lust, and it seemed to stir up something dark in Jim.

 

Jim’s hand curled around the back of Spock’s neck, squeezing hard before sliding up into his hair. Jim’s fingers threaded through Spock’s hair and then tightened, tugging Spock’s head to the side and making him cry out in surprise.

 

It hurt but he let himself feel it, let himself feel everything. Jim’s skin was so hot against his, and the molten heat of Jim’s sweat-slick chest pressing against Spock’s back burned him so deeply that he could not decide whether the was feeling was giving him pleasure or pain.

 

Jim’s breath was puffing in his ear, his movements more clipped but no less forceful as he leaned more heavily into Spock. Jim released his hair, only to reach up and clap a hand firmly over Spock’s mouth.

 

“I want to fuck you on the bridge,” Jim said, his voice husky.

 

Spock jolted in alarm at the thought of being taken by Jim where people could see them, but then a shiver went through him at the possessive heat Jim’s voice. He, shuddered, letting his bondmate’s words flow into him.

 

“I want to bend you over your console and take you from behind while you moan like a dirty little whore.”

 

Jim gave a firm thrust on the last word and Spock gasped into the tightly gripping hand.

 

“I want to pump you so full of come that you can’t move without my seed spilling out of you. I want it dripping down your thighs when you drop to your knees to lick me clean.”

 

Lost in that throaty declaration, Spock moaned.

 

“Would you like that? Would you like my cock in your mouth after I’ve fucked your ass?”

 

Spock’s tongue flicked out against Jim’s fingers, and then he heard his own muffled voice begging, “Yes! Please!”  

 

He could not stop himself. He was on the verge of falling to pieces.

 

“I want to hear you lose control.” Jim sat back up a little, and Spock felt a tight pain in his arms as Jim pushed his hands further up his back, leaning into him.

 

“Scream for me,” Jim said.

 

It was a command, fierce and compelling, and a moment after he issued it Jim slammed deep into Spock’s ass. Spock screamed, grateful for the hand Jim still held over his mouth.

 

The hand pinning his wrists released and went to the bed as Jim braced himself, thrusting hard and fast into Spock. The force of it knocked Spock flat to the bed, but Jim just followed him down, fucking him mercilessly into the mattress.

 

Jim pulled his hand away from Spock’s mouth to fist it in the sheets, and Spock turned his head to howl into the pillow as Jim’s cock speared into him, making him feel as if he was breaking apart. He felt as if he was caught, hanging helplessly exposed, being battered by devastating pleasure.

 

His beloved bondmate was claiming him, possessing him, leaning down to mark him with his teeth, and the warrior blood of his ancestors sang in his veins.

 

Then, in a flash, Spock was gone. He was glad for the restraints as his arms attempted to lash out, every last vestige of logic ripping away and leaving him raw. Pure emotion streamed from him to batter at Jim’s shields, but he received nothing in return and his soul ached.

 

He began to arch wildly up against Jim’s pummeling hips, and they clashed with bruising violence. Jim groaned and forced Spock back down against the bed, reasserting his dominance and penning Spock in. But he gave Spock the contact he seemed to sense was needed, digging his nails into Spock’s back and pulling himself closer, biting and suckling at the tender skin of Spock’s neck.

 

Jim shifted over him, changing the angle, and Spock chewed helplessly at the fabric against his face, thrusting frantically into the bed beneath him. He felt so full, and as the head of Jim’s cock bumped past his prostate his whole body became electrified with pleasure, a sharp, unrelenting current flowing through him.

 

His body suddenly registered everything he was experiencing all at once, in a staggering blast of sensation and emotion.

 

A hard, hot body, delicious friction, sweat dripping against him, prickling against his shivering skin. Passion. The thick cock sliding out of him, then in again with a wet slap, his wrists pulling vainly against his bonds. Nails biting into him, a small trickle of blood on his shoulder, and his mate licking it up, joy. Love. Endless, all-consuming love, made tangible by the heated gyrations of their straining bodies.

 

So good, so unbearably good, and far too much.

 

Spock screamed again, louder this time, and writhed beneath Jim, fingers reaching up and scratching at Jim’s skin, wanting to catch him, to still his movements.

 

“Jim! No!” Spock cried, once he found his voice. “No more!”

  


*

  


“Please, Jim. I—I cannot!” Spock was stuttering into the pillow. “Please.”

 

The body beneath Jim was shaking, Spock’s breath coming in ragged gasps. Jim pulled out, pulled away, but grasped Spock with both hands when the Vulcan shuddered and uttered a broken, “No!”

 

Jim turned Spock onto his back, moving between those long legs and sliding his slick cock over Spock’s own swollen organ. Spock groaned, his eyes too wide and staring right through Jim. Jim reached down and grasped his dick, rubbing the tip between Spock’s ass cheeks and teasingly over his wet hole, attentively taking in Spock’s reactions. It was difficult to be fully attuned to his bondmates needs with the bond blocked, but he had become quite adept at reading him over the course of their relationship.

 

Jim knew Spock wouldn’t risk damaging their bond by failing to use their safe word if he needed it. He trusted Spock as much as Spock trusted him.

 

Still, he couldn’t stop himself from leaning to down to whisper, “Say the word, and I’ll stop.”

 

He continued to teasingly rub himself against Spock, and was pleased when Spock’s eyes focused, settling on him. Spock’s breathing grew more even, and Jim pressed into him a little harder. Spock made a small, pleased sound, and Jim’s face split in a tender smile. He leaned down, laying a soft, warm kiss against Spock’s forehead.

 

Perhaps that was all Spock needed to center himself, because a moment later he was arching up into Jim, his eyes alight with feverish passion.

 

Jim pushed Spock’s legs up over his shoulders, lined himself up, and eagerly slid home. They both moaned.

 

“My shields…” Jim started. Jim knew it would be over all too quickly if he let his shields down now, let Spock’s uncontrolled emotions flow into him, but he had to be sure.

 

“No,” Spock whispered, rocking his hips. His eyes were becoming glazed again, though they remained fixed on Jim’s, and the fire in his expression spurred Jim on.

 

Jim leaned over Spock, nearly folding him in half, and began to thrust into him, each stroke long and hard.

 

“T’hy’la!” Spock cried, his body jolting and going stiff for a moment.

 

Knowing he had found what he was looking for, he kept that angle, drawing a sharp cry from Spock with each heavy, downward movement. He leaned harder into Spock, bending his head down to nip at Spock’s lip, to slip his tongue into Spock’s gasping mouth. Spock’s legs were pressed firmly against his own chest, and Jim thrust into him, using his body’s downward momentum to drive Spock into the mattress again and again.

 

He had never experienced anything as incredible as the sight of his usually calm and ordered bondmate falling apart in his arms, completely consumed by lust. And love. Despite his shields he could feel bursts of it slipping through, warming his very soul and pushing him closer toward the edge.

 

He couldn’t help it; he let his mental defenses break down a little and shoved his own fiery love at Spock, and was reward by a deep, reverberating moan and a desperate string of Vulcan words from his lover’s lips.

 

Jim’s barriers began to crumble, and as waves of Spock’s lust began to flood into him, he felt a tightening, a pressure building within him.

 

He had meant to drag this out for much longer, to have Spock every which way, but as their minds crashed together in a violent, sublime torrent of fire and ecstasy, Jim could not bring himself to regret it.

 

Spock was making helpless, guttural sounds, straining toward Jim as much as he could with his hands restrained beneath him. Jim held him, kissing any part of Spock he could reach while he continued to fuck him senseless.

 

Spock came with a sob, his body going impossibly rigid and then completely limp, all the while pouring out his release in hot streams.

 

Jim kept moving, fucking into Spock’s yielding body with furious need. Spock’s muscles were still pulsing around Jim as he slowly came down from his orgasm, but if the relentless assault of Jim’s cock was too much for his sensitized body he did not show it. His head was tilted back on the pillow, his mouth open as he drew in heaving breaths.

 

Overwhelmed by the sight, Jim dropped his head down against Spock and shoved in deep, groaning as he came. He shivered, rocking into Spock, his cock throbbing and spurting a copious amount of come.

 

Spock’s legs had slid off Jim’s shoulders, and he lowered them to the bed and lay between them, carelessly heavy against Spock’s chest. Though he hated to move, his duty to his bondmate compelled him and he eventually sat up, stretching languidly before turning to Spock.

 

Spock looked utterly debauched. The tremors that had been running through him had finally subsided, and he lay boneless and covered in come, his dark hair in disarray. Jim carefully rolled Spock onto his side, removed the cuffs from his wrists, and then shifted him onto his back again with his arms resting at his sides. He lifted up a limp hand and began to massage it, rubbing up over the slender wrists and eventually working his way up Spock’s entire arm. He did the same to the other side, finally arranging Spock’s hands at his sides again, and then got up once he was sure Spock was resting comfortably.

 

Spock’s eyes blinked at him lazily and then closed, and Jim hurried to the bathroom to retrieve a wet cloth. He came back, eager to be near his mate, and cleansed Spock’s sticky skin, rubbing the cloth in soothing circles over Spock’s loose muscles. A faint sigh escaped Spock, and Jim’s heart warmed. He leaned over to kiss Spock’s slightly parted lips, a light, tender touch.

 

When Spock’s eyes slid open again, Jim cupped his cheek and then leaned down to nuzzle at his neck.

 

“You were amazing, Spock,” Jim whispered. “God, you’re so good. So good to me.”

 

He stroked his fingers through Spock’s hair and heard a contented sound rumble in Spock’s chest, halfway between a sigh and a purr. He dropped the cloth over the side of the bed, and picked up the blanket, which had been pushed to the floor. He curled up next to Spock and pulled the blanket over them, melting into his bondmate’s side.

 

“Perfect. So perfect,” Jim murmured.

 

He felt a deep sense of belonging and satisfaction unfurl through the bond, reaching out to caress him, and their shared joy made Jim lightheaded as he mentally reached back. He let his love and gratitude flow into the bond, full and swelling high despite his physical exhaustion.

 

Jim let his hands slide over Spock’s body, gently caressing, and he didn’t fight it when sleep began to drag him down.

 

His eyes closed, and as he pulled his pliant bondmate closer, he became absolutely certain that he was the luckiest man in the galaxy.

 

***

  


Jim woke a full two hours before his alarm was set to go off, and he was not surprised to find that his lover was still sound asleep. He sat up and pulled the blanket down, devouring the sight of Spock’s lean but muscular physique.

 

Spock’s hips were dotted with bruises where Jim’s hands had gripped him too hard, his bottom lip was slightly swollen from being repeatedly bitten, and a scabbed over scratch stretched just over the top of Spock’s shoulder. Jim felt himself start to ache with both desire and guilt, but he suppressed the later emotion when Spock began to shift restlessly in his sleep.

 

Not wanting to wake Spock just yet, he quietly climbed out of bed.

 

He took a quick shower and strolled back into his quarters with a towel wrapped around his waist, then stopped to smile affectionately at his still-sleeping bondmate. Spock was sprawled on his back with one hand resting above his head on the pillow, his legs splayed open, looking tranquil and heartbreakingly beautiful in the peacefulness of sleep.

 

Jim got himself a glass of ice water, then went back to the bed to sit down.

 

He was swirling a chunk of ice around in his mouth and admiring the sleeping form before him when he noticed that Spock was starting to become aroused. He felt it through the bond, too, a spark of heat that slowly but steadily grew, winding into him and tickling against his mind.

 

And when Jim got an itch, he scratched.

 

He set the glass down on the floor, but continued to suck on the ice until it was gone.

 

Grinning and practically trembling with anticipation, he settled on his stomach between Spocks thighs, and pushed Spock’s legs back and apart. Spock shifted a little, but did not wake, and Jim took a moment examine Spock’s ass. The skin around his entrance was puckered and flushed green, and when he slid in a spit-slicked finger it came away glistening with the remains of his own seed.

 

Kirk groaned softly and turned to place a reverent line of kisses all along Spock’s inner thigh. He turned and gave the other thigh the same treatment, feeling the first flashes of awareness from Spock as he drifted toward wakefulness.

 

Spock was growing hard, and as his head began to toss on the pillow, Jim bent down and licked between the cleft of Spock’s ass.

 

Spock shuddered, coming fully awake, and Jim tightened his grip on Spock’s legs as he snaked his tongue into Spock’s hole. Spock made a hissing sound as Jim’s tongue, made cold by the ice, laved over the sensitive, inflamed skin, but he did not pull away. Jim felt Spock’s pleasure flare as he worked his tongue deeper, movements gentle but insistent. The heat inside Spock was searing to his ice-cold tongue, but he shoved it in as deep as he could, giving Spock’s inner walls firm flicks.

 

His tongue began to warm as he licked and soothed Spock’s entrance, and he groaned at the sheer eroticism of tasting himself inside Spock. He moved his tongue in and out, making Spock thoroughly wet, and was not satisfied until he heard Spock’s first appreciative sigh.

 

He released Spock’s legs and moved up onto his elbows, peering lovingly at his bondmate.

 

“Jim,” Spock said, gazing back with just as much affection.

 

He sat up and ran a hand between Spock’s buttocks, then slipped two fingers inside him. He knew Spock was still somewhat tender, so he slid in slowly and then stopped, carefully watching Spock’s face. Spock’s eyes were alight, and his fists were clutching at the sheets, twisting the fabric in his fingers. Jim grinned impishly, and crooked his fingers, stroking over Spock’s prostate.

 

Spock’s back lifted off the bed, and he let out a breathy, “Oh!”

 

Jim reached out with his free hand and wrapped his fingers around Spock’s dick, stroking him to full hardness. He could feel that Spock’s controls were not fully back in place yet—he would mostly require meditation for that—so Jim took great pleasure in wringing moans and soft whimpers from him with his practiced movements. Jim rubbed his hand up and down the long shaft, then bent down to suck the flared tip past his lips, sliding down and wetting Spock with his mouth.

 

He tenderly sucked the head before pulling off, rolling his tongue around it and humming happily as Spock thrusted up into his mouth. He sat back on his heels, stroking Spock inside and out, curling and uncurling the fingers in Spock’s ass while slowly stroking the long, olive cock in his other hand.

 

Spock’s hips made small jerking movements, as though he was only barely managing to keep from lifting off the bed, and his breaths grew quick and sharp.

 

He began to chant Jim’s name, softly, under his breath. Jim picked up the pace, his hand squeezing harder, and his fingers stroking faster within Spock.

 

“I want to taste you, Spock.” Jim bent back down, pouring ardor and devotion into his voice as he said, “Come for me.”

 

He clamped his lips down and sucked, hungrily taking Spock in. It was with a great amount of satisfaction that he heard the sheets tear in Spock’s hands even as a long, drawn out groan issued from Spock’s open mouth. Head thrown back, Spock came down Jim’s throat and Jim eagerly swallowed it down, savoring the strange, faintly sweet taste of it as he pulled back to gently suckle the head.

 

By the time Jim released the slowly softening cock, Spock had gone very still.

 

Jim sat up and licked his lips, then smiled at Spock. “Good morning.”

  


*

  


Spock was exhausted. He was bound to be, after the vigorous sexual activity he had engaged in the night before, but he was determined to return to full functionality as soon as possible. Something his insatiable bondmate had made more difficult by waking him in such a manner and testing his still inadequate controls.

 

He felt warm, loved, and perhaps just a little bit exasperated as Jim smirked at him, wiping a drop of Spock’s semen from his full upper lip.

 

Jim crawled up his body, rested his elbows on either side of Spock, and kissed the tip of his nose.

 

“So, what do you think, Spock?” Jim asked, his eyes dancing with mischief. “Want to go just one more round?”

 

“I think not.” Spock kept his voice firm, trying very hard not to let himself get caught up in his bondmate’s playful mood. Despite being naked, and having a naked, smirking human draped over him, Spock kept his expression cool and dignified.

 

“Are you sure? Because I could…”

 

One moment Spock felt Jim’s fingers teasing down his side and in the next he had Jim flat on his back, Spock’s body pressing down along the length of him, pinning him down. It was not, perhaps, a dignified position, but the heat coming off Jim’s body had an almost tranquilizing effect on him and he did not feel inclined to move.

 

“Spock, I was just teasing,” Jim said, gasping out a laugh and shoving ineffectually at his shoulders, “It’s a human weakness! One of many!”

 

Jim wiggled beneath him, but Spock only sighed, pressing his face into Jim’s neck. Spock felt some consternation come through the bond—Jim never did do well with being restrained—but mostly amusement and delight. He shifted a little of his weight off Jim, but he did not release him.

 

Jim chuckled and began to pet Spock’s hair, relaxing him further.

 

They were quiet for a time, thoughts drifting lazily back and forth through the bond, tangling together like their limbs. Spock felt the surge of affection just before Jim broke the silence.

 

“Thank you,” he said, his hand stilling to simply cradle Spock’s head against him. “Thank you for always giving me just what I need, and for sharing all of yourself with me. I know it’s not easy for you to let go like that.”

 

“Jim, I am proud to have a man such as you for my bondmate. When you are pleased with me it does gives me pleasure, but I, too, enjoy the act itself,” Spock said, lifting his head a little to look at Jim. “I am grateful to you for making me feel safe enough to explore the true extent of my emotions, for helping to draw them out of me, and for holding me together while I allow myself to experience them fully.”  

 

Spock brushed a delicate kiss over Jim’s temple, and then whispered in his ear, “Thank you, t’hy’la.”

 

Jim wrapped his arms around Spock and crushed him close, burying his face in Spock’s hair.

 

Spock sent his mind to brush against the surface of Jim’s and was glad to find that the stress and anxiety that had built up over the past week had all dissipated. Jim was himself again, confident, happy, and relaxed in his bondmate’s arms.

 

Spock’s lips curled ever so slightly in a smile. He imagined that if McCoy could see his current expression he would brandish some emotional human idiom, accusing Spock of looking like “the cat that ate the canary” or some other such thing.

 

Spock caught himself, cutting off his fanciful imaginings and deciding that he would meditate extensively later.

 

For now, though, he would immerse himself in the quiet pleasure of lying in his lover’s embrace.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Art for this story can be found [here](http://cmdrspockette.tumblr.com/post/98011531352/for-my-new-fic-push-it-written-for). It is, naturally, NSFW.


End file.
